


Things That I Am Not Allowed To Do At Hogwarts

by Laveycee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabbles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 03:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8084848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laveycee/pseuds/Laveycee
Summary: You know those lists about things that people aren't allowed to do at Hogwarts that used to be on everyone's FFN profiles?  These are the stories behind those.





	1. Spoons and Bees

_I will not poke Hufflepuffs with spoons, nor will I insist that their house colors indicate that they are "covered in bees"._

"Don't the Hufflepuffs look like they're covered in bees?" I whisper.

My friend gives me a strange look and stays silent.

"No, really," I say. "They look like they're covered in freaking bees!"

"No, they don't," she says, but I'm not listening.

 _Maybe… if I poke them with a spoon… they'll start… buzzing!_ I wiggle with excitement. I'll do it now, I decide. I quietly grab a spoon and go over to the Hufflepuff table. I chose a first year for my victim.

_Poke!_

"Ow! What the hell?"

Dang. She didn't buzz.

"Whatever made you poke her?" Professor McGonagall shrieks.

"I wanted to see if she was covered in bees…" I mumble.

"Detention!"


	2. Steve Irwin

_No matter how good a fake Australian accent I can do, I will not imitate Steve Irwin during Care of Magical Creatures class._

"Crikey! Look at the size of those crocs!" I say with an exaggerated Australian accent.

"Those aren't crocs. Those are flobberworms," Mike says. "What's with the accent, anyway?"

"I'm imitating Steve Irwin." Mike looks blank. "Muggle crocodile hunter?"

"I'm a pureblood, remember?"

"Ah, well, we can't all be awesome." Mike looks like he's about to reply, but we're interrupted.

"As amusing as your accent has been, Miss Montoya, could you and Mr. Cross please pay attention to my lesson?" Professor Kettleburn asks.

"Yes, Professor, we will," Mike and I say obediently.

"Nice Australian accent, by the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited a phrase.
> 
> "FLOBBERWORM
> 
> M.O.M. Classification: X
> 
> The Flobberworm lives in damp ditches. A thick brown worm reaching up to ten inches in length, the Flobberworm moves very little. One end is indistinguishable from the other, both producing the mucus from which the name is derived and which is sometimes used to thicken potions. The Flobberworm's preferred food is lettuce, though it will eat almost any vegetation."
> 
> -Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, J.K. Rowling


	3. Herbology Extra Credit

_Growing marijuana or hallucinogenic mushrooms is not "an extra credit project for Herbology"._

"Growing well…this should go for….15 sickles? Maybe?"

"What is this for, Mr. Montague?" I spin around and see Professor Sprout in the doorway. "Marijuana and hallucinogenic mushrooms? Not the lethal kind, I hope."

"Professor Sprout, I was growing these in the hopes of getting extra credit in Herbology." I look at her hopefully.

"Mr. Montague, if you wanted an extra credit assignment, you should have asked me. These are _illegal_. Come with me to see the Headmaster. If you aren't lucky…you will be expelled and sent to jail."

As we head up to the castle, I mentally curse the one who got me addicted. They're the reason I grew those plants. That and the chance to make some money.

Half an hour later, I'm expelled.

Half a year later, I'm in Azkaban.


	4. Wooden Jokes

_"I've heard every possible joke about Oliver Woods' name" is not a challenge._

" _Wood_ you pass the _olivers_?"

"Heard it. Want the olives?"

" _Wood_ I? Yes. _Oliver_ teammates aren't eating."

"TEAM! EAT! NOW! Issue solved."

"…Er…"

"Any more jokes?"

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

"What are those two doing?"

"I… don't want to know. So… joke time?"

"I think they're going to try turning the Slytherins' hair red and gold. Anyway, knock on wood that we win today."

"…that's a new one."

"That wasn't a joke."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a very punny person. Or funny, apparently. I beg your forgiveness.


	5. Muggle Magicks

_Putting up Doug Henning posters in Filch's office is not appropriate._

"Are you sure about this?" I ask George.

"Of course, Fred! It'll be funny! Besides, Doug Henning's like Filch! I think he was a Squib."

"Alright, we'll go."

We go and put up several posters of Doug Henning. As we're finishing, Filch comes in.

 _Great timing, Filch_ , I grumble mentally.

"WHAT DID YOU TWO DO TO MY OFFICE!" Filch screeches, eyes bulging.

"Well, there's this Muggle magician named Doug Henning…"

"And we figured he was a Squib…."

"Like you!" we say together.

"But—I—I'M NOT A SQUIB! YOU'LL BE IN DETENTION FOR A MONTH! GO SEE PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL!"


	6. Dress Code

_I will not go to class skyclad._

As I come out of my dormitory, I try to imagine what Professor McGonagall's reaction will be. Cries of "What the HELL?", "Put some clothes on!", and "Crazy first year!" (and even "MY EYES!") follow me down to the Great Hall. Fifteen seconds after I set foot in the Great hall (I counted) Professor McGonagall is by my side.

"What — exactly — are you _doing_?"

"I'm going to class skyclad, Professor."

McGonagall's lips are thin. She takes off her robe and hands it to me, saying, "Put this on, then go put on some clothes on. Then put them in the laundry."

I start to protest, but think better of it. At least I didn't get detention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the Internets, "skyclad" essentially means "nude". So... yeah, not up to dress code.


	7. An Appropriate Date

_The Giant Squid is not an appropriate date to the Yule Ball._

"Professor McGonagall, I have a problem," Fred Weasley announces.

"And what is this…problem, Mr. Weasley?"

"My date needs to be in water for the Yule Ball."

McGonagall's face is priceless. "And…who is your date, Mr. Weasley?"

"The Giant Squid," Fred answers promptly.

McGonagall's mouth falls open. "But — what —  _never_ , in all my years of —  _entirely inappropriate_ — " she sputters.

"So, someone'll take care of that then?" Fred asks brightly.

"NO! Find another date, Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall almost shrieks.

"Alright, Professor." Fred leaves for Gryffindor Tower—maybe he'll ask Angelina…


	8. Hardcore

_I will not use Umbridge's quill to write "I told you I was hardcore"._

"I dare you to," Colin says, wiggling with excitement.

I sigh. "Well….okay." Pulling this off without dying will be very difficult.

"Hello, Umbitch!" I announce as I walk into DADA.

"Excuse me?" she hisses.

"I'm sorry —  _Professor_ Umbitch," I amend with an air of remorse.

"Detention," she snarls.

"Okay!" I say brightly.

At seven o'clock, I report to her pink, frilly office.

"You will write _I will not disrespect my teachers_. Here is a quill for you."

I take the quill and produce parchment. Quickly, I write _I told you I was hardcore_ , then rip it off and complete my lines.

Colin is _so_ impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Umbridge is totally insecure enough to fly off the handle at the smallest perceived insult.  
> And also because fourteen-year-olds aren't all that smart.


	9. Showering

_I will stop referring to showering as "giving Moaning Myrtle an eyeful"._

After finishing my homework in the common room, I get up. Glancing up, Alfred (who still hasn't finished his work) asks, "Where're ya goin', Artie?"

I don't know what came over me. I replied: "My name is _Arthur_ , and I'm going to give Moaning Myrtle an eyeful."

Hearing this, Ludwig the Head Boy decided to deduct 15 points for inappropriateness, adding that he "would expect that level of perverted-ness from Francis, but not from Arthur", and to not refer to showering as giving Myrtle an eyeful.

Needless to say, several first years picked it up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever noticed how kids tend to pick up phrases and words that you really don't want them to?


	10. Excuses

_Polishing my wand in the common room is acceptable. "Polishing my wand" in the common room is not._

I notice that the Marauders are being suspiciously quiet, which doesn't bode well. So I, as a Prefect, should probably see what's up. "What are you four doing?" I ask, sneaking up from behind them.

"Er, hi, Evans…" Sirius Black says, shoving a bit of blank parchment over several filled with writing. I notice that James Potter's hand has leapt to his hair.

"What are you doing?" I repeat.

"We—we're polishing our wands!" squeaks Peter Pettigrew, holding up his wand and a cloth as evidence.

Remus Lupin, my fellow Prefect, shoots me a sheepish look.

I sigh. "Fine. But if you turn my robes pink again…" I trail off. I've scared them enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know that "polishing [a] wand" is an euphemism. However, I am incredibly uncomfortable writing stuff like that, so you get this more innocent version. Although seeing as it involves the Marauders, it's probably not all that innocent anyway.


	11. Drawings

_If a classmate falls asleep, I will not take advantage of that fact and draw the Dark Mark on their arm._

History of Magic is dull. This is universally accepted. So is it any wonder that people fall asleep during Binns' - quite frankly - deathly boring lectures?

I notice that Harry has fallen asleep, and Ron's not paying any attention to his surroundings. A spark of mischief grabs me. Carefully setting my quill to the inside left forearm of Harry, I quickly sketch a Dark Mark. _He'll get over it_ , I reason.

Ten minutes later, the bell rings, waking Harry up and abruptly dislodging everyone else from their stupor. I wait for a moment, then...

"HERMIONE! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!"

_Oh, but it is, Harry... it is..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone's got a mischievous side, right?


	12. Replacement Bludger

_House elves are not acceptable replacements for Bludgers._

"The Bludgers are missing," John Harrison, Quidditch Captain, announces. "Anyone have a replacement?"

"I've got an idea, John," Donna Saxon says. "Be back in...ten minutes." Donna races off to the castle.

About ten minutes later, Donna comes back, two house elves in tow.

"Donna, we can't - " Jack Tyler begins.

"We is glad to help Mistress Saxon," one of them says hurriedly.

"Um... All right, then. Let's practice!" yells John.

**20 minutes later**

"Harrison! House elves are not acceptable replacements for Bludgers! I am ashamed to call you a Ravenclaw - "


	13. Bets

_Starting a betting pool on the fate of this year's DADA teacher is tasteless and tacky, not a clever money-making concept._

"Step on up — you have a chance of winning several Galleons! Just make a wager — test your Inner Eye!" Fred Weasley yells to the last meeting of the DA before the break.

"What are you doing?" Hermione sighs.

"Taking bets on Umbridge's fate, of course. Care to place a bet?" Fred offers.

"I think she'll be attacked by nargles. They really don't like her..." Luna says, drifting past.

"Lee thinks she'll be eaten by an acromantula," George contributes, walking up from behind Hermione.

"I'll pass," Hermione tells them.

"Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley, this is lacking in taste and rather tacky — not clever at all," says Ginny, practicing her imitation of Professor McGonagall.


	14. That One Student

_I will not start every Potions class by asking Professor Snape if today's project is suitable for use as a sexual lubricant._

**1st Day of Classes**

"Professor Snape?"

 _I have found the Irritating Gryffindor._ "Yes?" I drawl, putting as much disdain as possible into my voice.

"Is today's project suitable for use as a sexual lubricant?"

 _Merlin's tailbone! This child isn't just an Irritating Gryffindor - he's a_ Perverted Irritating Gryffindor _!_

**Last Day of Classes**

The 17-year-old stands in Professor McGonagall's office, directly in front of the portrait of the recently deceased Professor Snape.

"Professor Snape?"

"Yes?"

"Were any of our potions suitable for use as sexual lubricants? Colin always wanted to ask, but he was always too scared."

 


	15. Real Spells

_"Liften Separatis Crotchum" is not a real spell._

"Gabriel?" my newly-eleven-year-old brother Adam asks.

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Teach me a spell."

I wait. Three... two... one...

"Please?" he adds hastily. "I wanna be ahead of everyone else."

"Well... Okay," I say, pretending to give in. I take Adam to the garage, where Mum and Dad won't hear us. "Pay attention," I say sternly.

Adam nods.

I take out my wand. "Liften Separatis Crotchum," I say, waving my wand and casting lumos nonverbally.

"Wow!" Adam says. "Can I show Sam?"

"Sure, kid. It might not work the first time - keep trying!"

On the train that year, nearly every first year is trying to cast the spell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an older sibling, this is something I would do. Or at least consider doing. Also, this is the end of my backlog, and I don't have the list of Things at university with me, so this'll be it until at least October.

**Author's Note:**

> I still love this series.  
> Originally posted on Fanfiction.net in 2012.


End file.
